Whine and Die

 

Just had a crazy idea to pack up and leave this place.
There does not seem to have a good reason to stay.
For one, I don't like the air I'm breathing.
And then, the sight I'm seeing.

In all honesty
I wish I'd vapourise
Fast and dry
Like alcohol on hot skin

The need to run away is too compelling. 
It is also, ironically, my motivating factor for work.
And yet,  ironically, again; having financial freedom also means concurrently being under bondage.

How is it like living each day having someone breath down your neck? Or feeling like a broken doll which needs fixing by every erm. well-intended person...? Or being pushed around by people who crave for that pseudo sense of superiority?

Yea... If it makes you happy.

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P.S: Now, don't get too serious about my title, it is just my badbad. attempt to rhyme the 'whine'. Oh yay it rhymes again. =P